


Still and Shaking

by SnubbingApollo



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Developing Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 10:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14447058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnubbingApollo/pseuds/SnubbingApollo
Summary: It was only ever a matter of time. They’re not in the Zemni Fields but theyarein the Empire and a wanted man is a wanted man.





	Still and Shaking

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't put fic out rapid-fire like this in I don't know how long. Holy crap you guys. Here have part two!
> 
> Mainly I was just desperate to get this out before it inevitably gets jossed lmao.

It was only ever a matter of time. They’re not in the Zemni Fields but they _are_ in the Empire and a wanted man is a wanted man. It had rained earlier in the day and so Caleb is without his protective layer of grime when the guard starts eyeing him a bit too closely. The village is small and the man is immediately jumpy. He’s likely never seen a face from a warrant up close and probably thought he never would.

For him, Caleb is as terrifying as he is exciting. A chance to advance his career and an unforeseen and unknown danger. Jumpy men are especially dangerous and Caleb begins pushing Nott subtly away from him and behind Jester the moment he feels the eyes on him. She looks up at him confused but before she can question his actions the guard is walking up to them.

“Stop! You there, stop where you are!” 

Caleb freezes and he feels the group stop around him, turning to the guard in confusion.

“Can we help you?” Fjord asks and Caleb begins to edge away from them. He has to run. He can’t bring this down on them. If the man notices _Nott_ -

The guard ignores Fjord entirely, moving to get a better look at Caleb and swallowing hard when he confirms his suspicions.

“Caleb Widogast? I have a warrant for your arrest. In the name of the Empire I demand you surrender,” the guard says pointing to Caleb. Caleb swallows hard, inching further to the side and the man puts a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Do _not_ move!”

Caleb freezes again.

He has several options. He could run, the man has only a sword and if he could keep out of range he could break for the trees. He could cast a spell, something to distract the man or injure him-

As he thinks he notices Fjord moving closer to him. They’re _all_ moving closer to him. He abandons his plans in an instant. He can fight this guard, the man is nothing to him, but he can’t fight them. If this is their choice he’ll honor it. He waits to be thrust forward, but it doesn’t happen. He blinks in shock when Fjord moves in _front_ of him. 

What are they doing?

“Why don’t you just move along,” Fjord says and his voice is low and on the edge of threatening.

“ _Fjord_ ,” Caleb hisses and Fjord pushes him a bit further backward.

“It’s alright, Caleb,” he says without taking his eyes off the guard.

“The man you’re defending is a _murderer_ ,” the guard says shifting and eyeing them all with a growing nervousness. Caleb flinches, staring at his own shoes so he doesn’t risk catching any of their expressions, seeing their reactions.

“I think you’re mistaken, friend.” It’s Mollymauk’s voice, and Caleb could cry that the man is defending him with such conviction. He’s so distracted he almost misses the sound of the Tiefling’s voice, smooth and even more charming than usual. There’s something about the sound of it, the way he’s moving his hand- he’s _casting_.

The guard's eyes go glassy for a moment and he sways a bit.

“You’ve got the wrong guy. Our friend here just has one of those faces. Easy to confuse for other people, kind of looks like that one guy everyone used to know. It’s the beard.”

The guard blinks looks at Molly, then back to Caleb, then back again.

“I… I see,” he says his voice coming out dazed. “Yes, I see now. I apologize for the misunderstanding.”

Molly gives him a jovial grin, patting him on the shoulder.

“No worries, you’re just doing your job. We’ll just be on our way, alright?”

“Yes, yes of course. Carry on.”

The guard gives them all a nod and then turns and walks away into the distance.

“Molly that was _so_ badass,” Beau says with a grin. Jester echoed the sentiment with a vehement nod.

“I thought we were gonna have to fight him for sure,” she says.

“He’ll come out of that in a few minutes and we need to be _long_ gone when he does,” Molly says, turning to the rest of them and then Caleb is being ushered back to the inn. Time passes in a blur as they pack up and load their things into the cart. Nott fusses the entire time, asking him if he’s okay and clinging to his hand. He can’t manage to respond in more than nods. They’d all been ready to _defend_ him. Even after they’d heard what he’d done.

“I’m sorry,” Caleb says as they pull out of the town, the first thing he’s managed to say since the guard caught sight of him.

“It’s alright Caleb,” Molly said, “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Murder?” Fjord asks and Caleb winces. He’s not surprised though, Fjord takes protecting the group very seriously and this wouldn’t be the first time Caleb’s threatened the rest of them. It’s almost a relief that at least _one_ is reacting with suspicion. They’re all so trusting. Too trusting. 

“Ja,” is all he says voice soft. He stares at the bottom of the cart, waiting for other questions. He flinches again when they start to come.

“They deserve it?” Fjord asks and Caleb feels his heart twist that the man would assume that, thought so _well_ of him.

“No,” Caleb breathes, still looking down.

“You didn’t see him in that prison,” Nott says taking his hand, her voice defensive and protective and everything he doesn’t deserve. “Whatever he’s done he’s been punished _enough_.”

“Nott-,” Caleb says softly but before he can finish Beau is speaking.

“No one’s saying he hasn’t, man,” she said. “But murder’s pretty serious, right? I mean, what happened?”

“Knowing what he’s wanted for will help us avoid places he shouldn’t be,” Yasha adds and Caleb can’t believe what he’s hearing. Nott quiets but doesn’t release his hand.

“It’s up to him what he tells you,” she says firmly and he’s surprised to see Fjord nodding in acceptance.

“Would you like to Cone of Truth me?” Caleb asks quietly.

“Just tell us what happened,” Fjord says and his voice is gentle. Caleb swallows hard and he considers lying. They’ve let him keep his ability to but under that kind of _trust_ \- he doesn’t deserve it and he’s done nothing to earn it but they’ve given it to him anyway and he can’t betray them. He wants so desperately to be as good as they all seem to think he is.

“I was young,” he says slowly, swallowing hard. The wood of the bottom of the cart has a fascinating grain really. It looks smooth to the touch. It’s been well sanded. “I was something of a magical prodigy, I suppose. I showed promise for it early and the whole village took up a collection to send me to Rexxentrum. To the Academy.” He can _feel_ Fjord’s suddenly sharp gaze.

“You wanted to go there too?” Jester asks leaning in and Caleb nods slowly.

“I did. But my village was small and we were all poor. It was going to take _years_ to raise enough money and I was impatient. I decided I would teach myself. There are ways to do that properly with the right books and enough hard work. Enough time. I know how to do it right now but back then... I was impatient and I didn’t have any books that could help me and nowhere to get them. Frumpkin was my first real spell. I summoned him for the first time when I was twelve. I bought the scroll from a traveling merchant and did all the work and got all the supplies.” He pauses gathering himself.

“My father was a tailor and money was scarce. It took me three months to save up enough for everything I needed. It was such a _slow_ process and I wanted to- I did not want to wait that long again. I’ve always had a knack for fire, it comes naturally, so I thought I wouldn’t need scrolls and spellbooks for that. I could just…”

He snaps his fingers and a few bits of flame drift off into the air.

“It worked well enough for a few weeks, practicing in my room after everyone went to bed, but eventually I lost control of it. Started a fire I couldn’t stop.” He breaks off taking a moment. His hands are shaking and he can’t seem to stop them. Nott squeezes the one she’s holding and he loves her so much it _hurts_.

“The village was small and the houses were close together so it spread quickly. By the time they put it out half the buildings were just crossbeams and ash. Three people died.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Beau breathes and Caleb nods, wishing he could sink through the cart and into the dirt beneath them. Molly has said nothing. Nott, sweet Nott, is still holding his hand. He glances down at her and she is glaring in a way he’d assume was meant for him if not for the fact that she was staring directly at the rest of the group, eyes darting between them all like she was daring anyone to judge him. 

He will never be able to make himself worthy of her.

“How old were you?” Molly asks and Caleb risks a glance up at him. His face is largely unreadable. There’s something in his eyes which might be pain but the rest of his expression is flat, set. As if he’s bracing himself for something he doesn’t want to hear.

Of course, he doesn’t want to hear this. He’d trusted Caleb, been _kind_ to Caleb.

“Fifteen,” Caleb says.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Beau says waving her hands. “You went to jail when you were _fifteen_?” Caleb nods.

“How old are you now?” Jester asks and her voice is small and soft. Caleb doesn’t understand why no one is yelling. Why are they asking these pointless questions and not demanding to know who he’d killed or why they should keep him.

He shrugs.

“I can’t be sure. Somewhere between twenty-five and thirty, I think,” he says.

“They just locked you up?” Molly asks and he sounds _horrified_.

“Of course they did I killed three people,” Caleb says and the words come out with a strange tone, half a statement and half a question.

“You were just a kid,” Beau says from across the cart and Caleb shakes his head.

“That’s hardly an excuse-” Caleb starts but Nott interrupts.

“It was an _accident_ , Caleb,” she tells him and her voice is too soft and too gentle and she’s still holding his _hand_. Would anything make her see him for what he is rather than just as the man who’d helped her out of a jail cell?

“What about your parents?” Yasha asks. “They didn’t try to stop it at all?” Caleb flinches violently, cringing in on himself.

“They were dead,” he murmurs. The cart falls silent and Caleb stays perfectly still, not daring to move. His eyes are stinging and isn’t that just typical?

_Crying won’t get you no sympathy here. You just sit in your cell and be quiet if you know what’s good for you._

He hears movement and he braces preparing himself for whatever’s coming. They won’t _hurt_ him, he doesn’t think they’ll _hurt_ him but-

There are arms around him. His eyes snap open and he stares at Jester in shock where she’s wound herself around him in a boa constrictor-like hug.

“That’s _terrible_ ,” she chokes out and Caleb realizes with a start that she’s crying. He puts his arms awkwardly around her in return trying to calm her.

“It- it’s alright-” he starts but she cuts him off.

“It’s _not_ alright, Caleb! You don’t even know how old you are!” she chokes out.

“Well, neither does Molly,” Caleb murmurs in what he hopes is a funny joke. It does get a laugh out of the man next to him but Jester just lets out a choked noise and throws her other around Molly, pulling him into the hug too.

“We are all _so_ fucked up,” Beau says and Caleb gives a soft helpless laugh.

“Works in progress,” he murmurs, one of his hands finding Jester’s hair and trying to calm her by stroking through it. Molly smiles and leans into his side. With Jester in front of him and Molly and Nott on a side each, Caleb ought to feel overwhelmed and claustrophobic.

He doesn’t.

“Well, we need to get this work in progress away from the damn Zemni Fields,” Fjord says ushering the horses to pull the cart a little faster.

“That’s my fault,” Molly says. “He warned me he might have trouble with the guards in the Fields but I thought we were far enough from the border that it wouldn’t matter.”

“So did I,” Caleb says softly. “They must have started circulating wanted posters after Nott and I escaped.”

He reaches down for her, needing to know that she’s here and safe and she leans into his touch. He loves her so much it hurts, a sharp wonderful pain in his chest. Molly leans his head against the shoulder Jester’s isn’t on and the ache intensifies.

They travel like that through the day and a little ways into the night until Fjord feels comfortable that they’re far enough away from anyone who might be looking for Caleb to stop for the night. At some point Jester pulls away from his shoulder and wipes her eyes and casts Blessing of the Trickster on him and Caleb thanks her while he straightens her cloak.

Molly and Nott share a look several hours later when they’ve finally stopped and are ready to bed down that Caleb doesn’t understand. They seem to come to some sort of unspoken agreement because Nott grumbles just a bit but sets up her bedroll closer to the fire and further away from Caleb’s usual spot than she normally does. He frowns at her in confusion until Molly drags his bedroll over and lays it directly next to Caleb’s.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks and Caleb blushes bright red.

“Um, no, I suppose that’s fine,” he says shifting where he’s sitting on the ground. Molly grins and lays down wrapping an arm around Caleb and pulling him close. Caleb makes a noise that might be a squeak before he can suppress it.

“Okay?” he asks and Caleb blinks rapidly taking in the position they’re in now, Molly on his back with Caleb pressed against his side, held there with an arm around his waist. He nods resting his head on Molly’s chest.

“I thought I was going to have to run,” he murmurs and Molly nods.

“I know,” he says. “I could see it in the look on your face. We wouldn’t have let him take you, Caleb.”

“Would you now?” Caleb asks, voice small and cautious. “Now that you know what I did?” Molly sighs and presses closer.

“No, Caleb,” he says softly and Caleb doesn’t understand. He’s a murderer. A _confessed_ murderer.

“But I-”

“You made a mistake. A terrible mistake. When you were a _child_ ,” Molly says firmly. “No one here is going to judge you for that.”

“Someone should,” Caleb breathes and Molly sighs again.

“I think Nott’s right, Caleb. I think you’ve been punished enough,” Molly says softly and gives his hair a kiss. Caleb presses close, taking comfort in Molly’s presence and his hold.

“That was a dangerous thing you did, charming that guard. What if it hadn’t worked?” he asks.

“We’d have fought,” Molly says with a shrug. “Or we’d have run. No one’s going to put you back in a cell.”

Caleb reaches up finding Molly’s hand and tangling their fingers together.

“Thank you Mollymauk,” he murmurs and lets his eyes close.

“You’d have done the same for me,” Molly says. “Or any of us.”

“I would,” Caleb murmurs softly. When had that happened? It had been a slow process, drifting from Caleb and Nott to the Mighty Nein without him even noticing. That name had been a _joke_ and he’s not even sure it had been a good one. But here they all are.

“There you go,” Molly tells him. “Get some sleep.”

Caleb blinks rapidly.

“Like this?” he asks and Molly nods.

“Unless you’re uncomfortable,” Molly answers and Caleb shakes his head a little embarrassed by how vehement the movement is.

“No, this is fine. This is… nice.” He presses a bit closer, enjoying the feel of Molly against him. It was _more_ than nice. He felt good in Molly’s arms, safe and warm.

“What a ringing endorsement,” Molly says and for a moment Caleb thinks he’s offended him but then he notices the way Molly’s chest is moving under his head. He’s laughing. Caleb smiles, shaking his head.

“I am not good with words, we can’t all be showmen,” Caleb teases back before growing serious. “I’m not used to people.” He was used to bars and stone walls and silence. Endless unceasing silence.

“We’ll get you used to people, Caleb,” Molly says holding him close. His voice has gone tight and quiet and Caleb lances up to see his brow furrowed and pain dancing behind his eyes. “You’re not there anymore and you never will be again, okay?”

Caleb nods, before tearing his eyes away from the Tiefling’s. It nearly hurts breaking the contact, but it’s just too _much_. too open. One of Molly’s hands finds his hair, stroking the strands and Caleb could cry with how wonderful it is.

“Goodnight, Mollymauk,” he murmurs when he finds his voice again.

“Night Caleb.”


End file.
